High Noon

was her illness whispering, trying to sneak in a little closer.
    She lay the card that detailed instructions for the care of the lovebird spread, then closed the bright silver box.
    While she gift-wrapped the box as the customer had ordered, she was calmer. Her gaze strayed to the windows now and then, but that was just a check, just a peek at what might be out there. She was pleased it was raining. She loved rainy days when it seemed so cozy and snug and right to be inside the house, all tucked in like the lovebirds in the silver box.
    By the time she had the gift cushioned in its shipping box, sealed and labeled, she was humming.
    She carried it out, pausing to peek into Phoebe’s room, and smiling when she saw her baby girl sleeping. Sleep and rest and quiet, that’s what her baby needed to heal. When she woke from her nap, Essie decided she’d bring Phoebe up a tea tray, a nice little snack, and sit with her the way she had so many years ago when her daughter had been down with a cold or a touch of flu.
    She was halfway down the steps with the big box when the doorbell rang. The jolt shot through her like a bullet, driving her right down, legs folding, heart slamming, to sit on the steps with her arms wrapped around the box as if it would shield her.
    And she could have wept, could have dropped her head down on the box and wept at the instant and uncontrollable terror.
    The door was locked, and could stay locked if she needed it to. No one in, no one out. All the pretty birds inside the silver box.
    How could she explain to anyone, anyone, the grip of the sudden, strangling fear, the way it set the little white scar on her cheek throbbing like a fresh wound? But the bell would ring again if she didn’t answer—hear that, it’s ringing again. It would wake Phoebe, and she needed to sleep.
    Who was going to protect her baby if she ran away and hid?
    So she was not going to cower on the steps; she was not going to allow herself to fear opening the front door, even if she was unable to walk out of it.
    She got up, made herself walk to the door, though she did continue to clutch the box in front of her. And the relief made her feel foolish, and a little ashamed, when she saw Duncan on the other side.
    Such a nice boy, Essie thought as she took a moment, just one moment more, to get her breath back. A solid, well-mannered young man who’d carried her hurt baby girl up to bed.
    There was nothing to be afraid of.
    Shifting the box, Essie unlocked the door and beamed a smile. “Duncan! How nice of you to come by. Look at you, all that rain and no umbrella! Come in the house.”
    “Let me take that for you.”
    “No, that’s all right. I’m just going to set it down here.” She turned as she did, hoped he couldn’t see her hands still shaking. “I’ve got a pickup scheduled for it. How about some coffee?”
    “Don’t trouble. Hey.” He took her hands, so she knew he had seen. “Are you all right?”
    “I’m a little on edge, that’s all. Foolish.”
    “Not foolish at all, not after what happened. I’ve been jumpy myself.”
    No, Essie thought, no, he hadn’t. He wasn’t the type to jolt at sounds and shadows. But it was sweet of him to say otherwise. “Don’t tell Phoebe I said so, but it calms my nerves having a big, strong man in the house.”
    “Someone else here?” he said and made her laugh. “Secret’s safe. I just stopped by to see how the patient’s doing.”
    “She had a restless night.” Essie took his arm, steered him into the parlor. “But she’s sleeping now. Sit down and keep me company, won’t you? Ava’s at the flower shop. She works there a couple, three days a week when they can use her. My daughter-in-law’s going to come by later. Josie’s a nurse, a private-duty nurse. She took a look at Phoebe yesterday, and she’s going to stop in later, with Carter, after his classes. And you know why I’m talking so much?”
    “Are you?”
    “Duncan, I’m so embarrassed by the way I acted yesterday.”
    “You shouldn’t be. You had a shock.”
    “And I didn’t handle it well.”
    “Essie, you ought to give yourself a break.” He saw surprise cross over her face, as if she’d never thought of any such thing. “What’ve you been up to today?”
    “Keeping busy, pestering Phoebe with food on trays until I imagine she wants to knock me over the head with them. I finished a project and made half a dozen lists I don’t need.”
    Little tickled his interest more